Irish Weather

I was excited to wake as the day was brightening. It seemed as though my abdomen could feel the dawn. I always know I'll be in a good mood when I wake up this way. I hopped out of bed and saw that it was gray and wet out. I heard dripping sounds but it wasn't actually raining yet. It was Irish mist. I jogged with Lily over to drop my book in library drop-box and then we headed over to the bike path. At the intersection I ran into my dog loving neighbor and I made Lily sit rather than jump on him. It worked! I was able to reinforce the command with my Lily-the-Lion tamer kibble bits I carry in an old Altoids tin. I am starting to love walking along the big open soccer field and going by the little waterfall. The open expanse of land and sky feels more like the Midwest rather than the middle of a little mill city in Rhode Island. On the path I heard a bird song I had never heard before. I stopped to listen and look. I could see the gray and white singing bird in the bare tree. He was tiny. Lily and I walked up to where the water treatment plant and the railroad tracks and a residential street all meet. I saw an older couple enter the bike path, each carrying folded-up umbrellas. As they approached us I made Lily sit. They smiled. I was glad to see other people not dismayed by the weather.

As I was walking back I was thinking that I wish I could step back into time and meet Hieronymus Bosch. I tried to imagine what it would be like to visit him in his studio. I imagined cats and dogs, and buxom women gathered at a table with hunks of cheese and meat and a jug of red wine. My picture was completely cliche and cinematic and romantic, of course. I'm sure Bosch felt the same struggles and agonies we all feel trying to make paintings. But he kept making them! He didn't have the Internet to distract him but he probably still had to fend people off and wrestle his inner demons to get his work done. Maybe he worked at night and slept during the day. I imagine he had a community of artist pals cheering him on and feeding him. He must have! What was his mother like? An angel or a witch?

When Lily and I walked back to the soccer field nobody was around. I decided to let Lily off the leash. She joyously ran in a big circle top speed at the corner of the field! I hunkered down and slapped my thighs encouraging her. She ran a fast circle three more times, her beautiful muscular body flying through space like a star athlete. I could tell she loved it. She was doing her dance of pent up exuberance! When her attention wavered I got her to come and sit and I gave her a treat. We practiced the sit, stay command, the one where I place her, then back up and call her. Then I let her poke around loose some more. She ran ahead and when I called she didn't come because she had discovered a new treat; goose poop! I ran towards her yelling "Lily come!" I was getting a little nervous. When she saw me coming she started gobbling up the green goop at top speed like she was loose at a royal banquet. She ran from one fresh green goose pile to the next, moving away as I approached her. Finally I got on top of her and hooked her up. While crossing the field I could feel the water filling up my sneakers as I was sinking into the wet warm mushy mud.

I told Bill about my adventure and he reminded me that all of our dogs, though well-trained, have had a point where their attention would shift and they would revert to being wild and free beasties! We just have to try to pay closer attention and try to catch them before that point.

I put on dry socks and shoes and had hot tea which tasted exceptionally good! My bread is rising extremely slowly next to the not very warm boiler. I've got beans simmering in the oven. It's raining now and I am so grateful for my good mood.